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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227639">chess without borders</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/monarchs/pseuds/monarchs'>monarchs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Social Network (2010)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brief Sexual Content, Chess, Light Angst, M/M, distraction sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:48:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227639</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/monarchs/pseuds/monarchs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark is a sore loser. Once he sees his defeat, some five moves ahead, he would use anything (kisses, touches, sex) to distract Eduardo from finishing the game.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eduardo Saverin/Mark Zuckerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>chess without borders</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">

        <li>
          Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: 
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26612242">【中文翻译】chess without borders</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lsyycaz/pseuds/lsyycaz">lsyycaz</a>
        </li>


    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/queuebird">Q</a> for the beta!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eduardo recognized the game about four turns in. Well, not exactly, but. He recognized something.</p><p>It took Eduardo a while to realize that Mark wasn't really looking at the chessboard much. He was staring at Eduardo like <i>Eduardo</i> was the game. Or endgame, Eduardo wasn’t sure.</p><p>Mark didn't capture his bishop on c4. Eduardo could see Mark's defeat ten or so turns ahead. He wondered if today was the day to test Mark’s ego.</p><p>Eduardo thought, <i>fuck Mark's ego</i>, and moved his knight to e5.</p><p>To Eduardo's surprise, Mark stood up. The chess pieces fell to the wooden floor as he leaned over the table to capture Eduardo’s lips.</p><p>“Brokering a détente already?” Eduardo asked, laughing against Mark's mouth.</p><p>Mark didn’t reply. He flipped the small table away and climbed into Eduardo’s lap, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, kissing deeper. Never letting go.<br/>
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All stories start somewhere. This one started with an encounter over a humble chessboard in the waiting room of a dental clinic.</p><p>There was nothing remarkable about the chessboard. It wasn’t half as nice as the chessboards back home, but it was the first chess set that Eduardo and Mark had ever played on, and that alone made it worth remembering. Eduardo thought of it fondly. He often wondered if it was still there, on the old coffee table tucked in the corner.</p><p>Not that their first game was romantic in any way. Mark had actually never played before, barely knew the rules, and most annoyingly, refused to admit it. He was only fifteen back then, filled to the brim with teenage defiance. Eduardo remembered explaining the concept of en passant to Mark. He recalled the frown across Mark's forehead, the way he wouldn’t back down, eager to display headstrong truculence.</p><p>“You can’t check your own king.”</p><p>“Noble is the one who knows self-sacrifice,” Mark had said, withdrawing his king.</p><p>Eduardo shook his head and didn't bother with explaining the touch-move rule. Only smiled.<br/>
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Eduardo taught Mark the ropes. It wasn’t hard because Mark was a genius in the making, but it was infuriating, especially after they started fooling around, about five years later.</p><p>Because Mark was a sore loser. And once he saw his defeat, some five moves ahead, he’d use anything (kisses, touches, sex) to distract Eduardo from finishing the game. </p><p>“You could have sacked your Queen here-- under-promoted your pawn. Would have mated me, maybe,” Eduardo said, taunting. He hissed quietly as Mark went down on him.</p><p>“Mating, that’s the idea,” Mark said nonchalantly, after having licked up the underside of Eduardo’s cock.<br/>
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And Eduardo didn't know how to say no to all that. Perhaps he was touch-starved, perhaps he wasn’t one to say no, perhaps he liked Mark far too much for his own good. Eduardo took what he was given, and never for a second pondered what it meant that he never got to checkmate Mark.<br/>
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What felt like lifetimes ago, to celebrate Mark’s admission to Harvard, Eduardo bought him a Wegiel hand-carved Ambassador chess set, just a little something to furnish Mark’s room at the Kirkland suite. </p><p>“How much did this cost?” Mark asked suspiciously.</p><p>“Does it matter?” Eduardo said.</p><p>“Yeah, I can’t accept this,” Mark replied shortly.</p><p>“Takes two to play.” Eduardo opened the set. He hadn’t had the chance to appreciate its craft, so he was pretty enthused to check it out. “I mean, I’m assuming I’ll be playing on it. Half the time.”</p><p>“So... we co-own this thing?” </p><p>“No need to be technical,” Eduardo said, examining the chess pieces. “Quick game?”</p><p>Mark smiled just enough for his dimples to show. “Okay.”<br/>
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The chessboard served them for a year only, before Mark’s interests shifted, rather dramatically, to thefacebook. Mark became caught up in the need to impress his peers, the need to be invited to a final club. </p><p>Eduardo couldn’t have guessed that when Mark asked for the chess ranking algorithm, it meant good things were coming to an end.<br/>
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*<br/>
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There was a game Eduardo remembered particularly. It was a rainy day, end of March, maybe, or early April. The shadows of droplets glided across the board, small hints of time passing.</p><p>Mark was trying out what seemed to be the Evans gambit, and Eduardo had accepted it, planning to retreat his bishop, only to realize belatedly that he couldn’t castle kingside and was exposing his king to Mark’s solid centre development.</p><p>Mark had almost won that game. It was the game with the fewest mistakes on his part, and the most on Eduardo’s.</p><p>Eduardo had been distracted. Mark’s face was angled in a way that showed off his cheekbones and nose bridge, his eyelashes, the corners of his mouth. </p><p>And Mark was smiling like he was proud that he didn’t need to kiss his way out of this game. Little did Mark know Eduardo had wanted it so much. To kiss him, to take him, consume him whole, right then and there. Just because he wanted to.</p><p>In an attempt to move his pawn, Eduardo knocked over his beer, which spilled across the board. He swiped at the flowing liquid clumsily, making some pieces fall off the side.</p><p>Mark scoffed, saying, “I was winning, wasn’t I?” </p><p>He was beaming; it didn't matter to him that he wouldn't see the end of the game.</p><p>Eduardo smiled tightly. </p><p>Mark had won more than just a game, and Eduardo had lost more than he could possibly imagine.</p><p>Mark leaned forward and kissed Eduardo, gently, eyes closed. Eduardo sighed against his mouth, hands sliding down Mark’s sides, lost in desire.<br/>
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Beneath them, the beer soaked into the board, leaving a permanent stain.<br/>
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*<br/>
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Mark was more of an aggressive player. Eduardo should have known not to expect anything less. His play style showed in everything he did, be it coding or kissing. </p><p>Mark had a certain kind of cool zeal. He was in many ways a wayward prodigy, a misunderstood genius, a modern romantic.</p><p>He was everything Eduardo strived to be.</p><p>He was everything Eduardo wanted, and more.<br/>
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*<br/>
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How had Eduardo not seen it coming? It was in this game, it was in every other game. Mark’s tendency to simplify, clear the board, play to the death, combined with his inability to cope with endgames, his hatred for losing, his preference of showing not telling, his propensity to sacrifice pieces for the betterment of god knew what.</p><p>How had Eduardo missed all the signs?<br/>
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*<br/>
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They settled ten years ago. </p><p>For ten years Eduardo never touched a chessboard.<br/>
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*<br/>
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With time he hoped Mark would become a forgotten game of his life.</p><p>However, just when he had moved on, Eduardo received an international package at work. Unsuspecting, he opened it without looking at the sender’s address.</p><p>Its contents threw him for a loop.</p><p>There was a single chessboard enveloped in bubble wrap, and nothing else. No chess pieces, only the board.</p><p>It had a stain on it that Eduardo recognized immediately.<br/>
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*<br/>
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Under the chessboard was a Post-it note. It read, in a messy but familiar handwriting:</p><p>
  <i>I’m sorry.<br/>
e4.</i>
</p><p>Eduardo stood, disoriented. </p><p>He hugged the board to his chest, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, stared out the window, watched a plane take off into the horizon.<br/>
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*<br/>
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Pawn to <i>e4</i>.<br/>
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It was Eduardo’s turn.<br/>
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So he booked a ticket to SFO.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading markwardo in 2020! I can't believe tsnversary is coming up soon. </p><p>Comments, kudoses, bookmarks are loved and cherished to no end! We are starving tsn authors....</p></blockquote></div></div>
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